I try to be excited when New Year's comes around, however it has always seemed a forced celebration; we're all exhausted from the Christmas, Chanukah or Kwanzaa frenzied round of parties, shopping, cleaning, gift-giving, guilt, over-spending, arguing, over-eating and under-sleeping, and here comes New Year's! No matter how you celebrate it, you're duty-bound to celebrate somehow. Another night of too much to drink and eat, maybe a good night out somewhere with your loved one, if you're fortunate, a rude reminder of your aloneness otherwise.
For me, the new year has always started in September with the school year. It's been that way since I first went to kindergarten, with my Bobby Sherman lunch box (they were sold out of David Cassidy, sigh), my shiny red pencil box filled with lovely new writing instruments and fragrant pink erasers, in my plaid jumper, white cardigan, knee socks and leather Mary Janes. The excitement, anticipation and fear as the school bus pulled up to a squealing halt in front of my house will never be matched by the wildest rollercoaster.
Every September, that feeling always crept over me, even now, when I don't go to school every day (taking some college courses, but not the taking the bus to school kind of fun classes). Can happiness be found in a new eraser? I think I will go buy one, rub it on a piece of paper to heat it up, then bring it up to my nose and breathe deeply to check it out. Somehow I think we all might be a little happier if we had a new pencil box every year. Happy New Year.
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